I know it's been almost three years.

Deal with it.

,.,.,.,,.,.

Mornings were difficult for Ichigo.

Be it Isshin, Rukia, or the twins pestering him, someone always was. Someone always wanted something. ("Show me your uppercut, son!") ("Oi, Ichigo! Wake the hell up!") ("Ichi-nii, can you help me with my homework?")

But one morning—particularly the one after his discovery of the ribbon—was by far the most difficult. Because that morning, it was the ribbon that was pestering him.

By no means was he a schizophrenic; Ichigo not bothered by the ribbon because it was talking to him or anything of the like— but because he found himself endlessly, inerrably fascinated with it, coupled with an almost obsessive desire to protect it. He wondered briefly if he was going crazy, but then it would have already happened by now given most of the things that happened in his day-to-day life.

Maybe he just needed to get a life.

At school, he questioned Orihime, but she said it did not belong to anyone she knew of. Rukia put in jibes about how annoying he was, keeping it in his pocket like that, but she could be ignored so long as he had schoolwork to busy himself with. And he sure as hell had a lot of it – Miss Ochi, he decided, must be on the rag.

Halfway through the day, he took the ribbon out of his pocket at lunch and, after a moment of staring, irritated, at it, he decided that this business must come to an end. It was just something he'd found in a field on a windy day, nothing more.

He still kept it in his pocket, though. Rukia guffawed pretentiously at that.

Fourth period, however, was an anomaly, in that they got a new student. She was introduced by his ancient history teacher as Satoru Manabi, standing rather rigidly at the front of the classroom. Her violet-black hair was plaited on her shoulder.

She sat next to him, in the empty seat Keigo vacated whenever he switched into Civics and Economics.

Her eyes, though, were bizarre. Large, limpid orange, focused on her paper as she wrote out the notes on the board. Ichigo watched her, peripherally of course, his nose crinkled. New girls at this school were usually irritatingly self-centered and egotistical, with the same cookie-cutter personally. However, Satoru seemed content to just be, sit and watch the projector with agonizing concentration, not scouting around for men like the other girls (save for Rukia, whose nose was buried in a comic book).

Her attitude intrigued him like nothing else.

Rukia sat with him under the tree at lunchtime, prattling on about Renji's sudden 'preoccupation' with some girl that had just started in the Central 46. It went in one ear and out the other, that is of course until she groused, "Ichigo!"

"Sorry." He tore his eyes away from Karakura High School's newest student, alone on a metal bench with a sandwich. "Wasn't paying attention."

"Well, that much was clear." Ocean eyes rolled and, without a hitch, Rukia barreled back into her rant. He continued to watch the new student, perplexed by her disinterest in the other girls around who, with their tittering voices, asked her endless questions, where did you come from and is there anybody you think is cute yet?

Ichigo bit his lip. "That's weird."

"What is?" Rukia dropped her complaints for just a moment, surveying the entranced look on Ichigo's face. Following his eyes, she discovered with a hint of amusement that he was ogling the new girl. "Ahhh, I see. You humans are so predictable."

He rolled his eyes. "Come off it. I'm just a little confused. Normally transfers don't shut the hell up on their first day."

"She's just shy, then." Rukia stretched her legs out, leaning against the tree and biting into her sandwich. "Not everyone can be a social butterfly. Oi! Satoru!"

"Rukia—" Ichigo hissed.

"Ah?" the girl answered, cocking her head to the side. She drifted over to them. "Did you call my name?" And when she approached, there was an elfin quality about the way she walked; waltzed would be more appropriate, because with each footfall she barely grazed the ground. Ichigo found it strange.

"I'm Rukia. Rukia Kuchiki." The shorter girl got to her feet.

"Satoru Manabi." A jaunty little bow; he thought he saw her curtsy a bit. "You're the first person who actually introduced themselves! Is everyone at this school so rude?"

Ichigo's mouth was dry, since when he saw her face, a chord struck within him; a tiny, distant one. "Have we met before?"

A light frown. "No, I don't think so." Satoru twirled about. "I'm new here, you see. I came from Usaga." (A prestigious preparatory academy outside city limits, his brain supplied dimly). "This school is smaller. I like it."

Rukia winked at Ichigo; he rolled his eyes. "I'm Ichigo Kurosaki."

"Ichigoooo… Strawberry?" she laughed. "I guess it's not your fault."

"Guess not," he replied flatly. So much for her being quiet and unobtrusive.

The bell sounded; he gathered up his trash and put it in his box; leaving hers in front of the tree, Rukia followed him away from Satoru, whose acrobatic walk, while theatrical enough, was painfully slow.

And he could have sworn they've met before.

,.,.,.,.,.,,.,

His sleep was erratic that night; between the noise of the TV in the living room (where Isshin watched womens' wrestling) and the muffled sounds Rukia tapping away on her phone in his closet (unabashedly continuing though he'd screamed at her multiple times) it was impossible to remain in dreamland for longer than twenty minutes at a time.

Ichigo figured it was time for a walk.

The air was balmy, alight with fireflies; they were drawn to the fluorescent lights of the shining letters atop the Clinic. Checking his watch, he discovered it was 12:53 AM. On a normal night, he was dreaming of being Captain-Commander around this time.

Ha. Like that would ever happen.

Idly, he listened to the yammerings of his neighbors as he walked through the rows of houses; it was oddly peaceful, and for a moment he escaped the perils of the questions that damn ribbon had him asking himself.

Oh, and Satoru. For reasons unknown, her attitude was irking him unbelievably; normally he ignored girls like that, let them terrorize Keigo and Mizuiro instead.

There was just something about the dayglow stare she'd given him, under the tree, when she laughed about his name. He'd seen her before; he knew it, if only in passing.

"Why are you out here alone?"

His head jerked to the left at the voice of an annoyingly short white-haired Captain. "I could ask you the same question."

Hitsugaya pursed his lips, his green eyes lit up by the gibbous moon in the distance. "It's really not your business. I've just been asked to patrol this area because as I'm sure you've noticed, bizarre things tend to happen here. Now, why are you out so late?"

"It's really not your business," Ichigo countered, scratching at his own scalp and smirking.

"Kurosaki—"

"Just needed to get away from Rukia." That was sort of the truth, he supposed. "Where's Rangiku?"

Small shoulders shrugged, and Hitsugaya rolled his eyes. "Somewhere in the next city over. We're supposed to meet up in an hour. You should be getting home," he advised, without hostility, but as if he actually cared.

Whatever intentions he may have had, they were wasted on Ichigo. "I'll get around to it. See you."

And he was alone again, drifting through the labyrinth-like streets of his subdivision. Hitsugaya's appearance should really have had a million things going through his head, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All that held Ichigo's attention, now, were a frayed vermillion strip of fabric and, more recently, a spritely girl with haunting orange eyes.

.,.,.,.,

Updates exist now, by the way.

Short chapters, but updates.

Let's hope you haven't abandoned the story, like I did.